


Playing hero

by Zoya113



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Fluff, IG request, I’m not in the Black Friday tag much so I hope this isn’t too similar to others !, M/M, PEIP versus another force I do not have time to elaborate on, TW for blood but not gore, but they do be having guns, kinda angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Xander has to perform some emergency first aid on his dumbass husband. Again.
Relationships: Xander Lee/John McNamara
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Playing hero

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for @saveyourtearsforlubrication on instagram ! I’m taking writing requests at the moment on my insta at @sapphic.melissa113 if anyone has any feel free to drop them in!

John McNamara was always on about how great of a field agent Xander was, and yes, he was a high ranking agent and PEIP but he was a physicist first, and he would always be an indoor kid at heart. So perhaps his stupid husband only thought he was a good field agent because he didn’t immediately fling himself straight into imminent danger at any given chance! 

“Jesus, John. Why do you always have to play hero?” He buckled down at John’s side where he was collapsed on the field, hand clutching at his shoulder. 

“It’s just a flesh wound, Xander,” he managed to mumble, his voice barely audible over the chaos and noise pollution on the field as guns fired and voices roared from every angle of the battle field. It was impossible not to listen to cries from all around him, the noise was rattling through his bones and yet his heart was racing for an entirely different reason. 

“Don’t give me that dumb smirk,” Xander grunted, pitting a hand over John’s to ensure he was keeping it to his wound. His uniform was getting soaked in something sticky and hot. His blood. He must’ve been shot. “You aren’t playing hero, you’re playing dumbass is what you’re doing,” he slipped his other hand under his husband’s back, sitting him up with little regard for his hiss of pain. “This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t run headfirst as the enemy line,” he scolded.

“What, you didn’t think I looked cool?” He still had it in him to tease it seemed. 

Xander rolled his eyes, not amused right now at his husband’s teasing when he was also simultaneously bleeding out on the ground. “Come on. Can you walk?” He asked as he hauled him to his feet, pulling on his good hand over his shoulder so John could lean his weight on him if he needed it but just as soon as they were standing he almost buckled under John’s dead weight. “Shit!”

“Sorry, Xander,” he let out a grunt as he tried to catch his own fall. “I can walk it off.” His voice was barely a whisper compared to every other sound. 

“Are you kidding me?” He shot John a look, just readjusting his stance to better calculate for both of their weights as he walked. Time to get his hero out of here. “Come on. We need to get that wound closed up.” 

“I’ll be fine, Xander,” he insisted, ever stubborn. Crimson seeping into the wedding ring on his finger. 

“Being the General doesn’t mean you have to take every given chance to bleed out on the battle field,” he had to remind him. “We aren’t having this fight right now.” It was hard to move him when he almost had to drag him, and especially worse on the rocky terrain their fight unfortunately was taking place on.

With his back turned to the main line he just had to hope he could get John to shelter before someone saw them as easy prey. 

Praying John could stay upright if he took his hand off his back, Xander grappled for the radio in his utility vest pocket, ripping open the Velcro and racing to pull it out, holding it close enough to his mouth for home base to hear over the sound of the Gatling guns. “Zero-Alpha. We need a casevac, right now, over,” he couldn’t raise his voice to match his panic, John was leaning to hard on his shoulder and he couldn’t take in a big enough breath but maybe that was for the better. He couldn’t freak out, not right now. 

There was a burst of radio static on the other end as he pinned his radio to his vest, grabbing John’s hand again to pull him forward. “Break, can you repeat? Over.” 

Shit. No, he didn’t have that time right now. He veered John to the side. Feeling his own legs begin to burn from dragging John’s weight. He had to get away from the noise. “John?”

“What’s the problem, X?” He asked, his voice not quite intelligible and a slight laugh to his words like he wasn’t understanding the danger they were in. Still playing hero. 

“Are you still with me!?”

“I’m right here,” he answered. 

“Dumbass.” Not what he meant. “Sorry,” he quickly apologised. If he bled out that was not what he wanted his last words to be. “Here,” he couldn’t drag him much further on his own, but there was a small enough spot wedged in between to rocks where no enemy fire could reach. When he tried to move to let John down he almost instantly tumbled from his side, but Xander caught him just before he hit the ground, wincing for the half conscious man as his shoulder hit the side of rocky crevice. 

Most frightening was that John didn’t even seem to notice they had hit the floor. 

“Hey, John?” He couldn’t let him fall asleep. He was going to have to do something. 

“I’m alright,” John groaned, his hand moving from his shoulder to try and grasp at his now aching-for-sure head and getting blood all over his cheek. 

“Stay still!” He grabbed his good shoulder, sitting him up against the rocks. “Apply pressure time the wound, John,” he instructed, rifling through his utility vest.

“Don’t tell me what to do, I’m the General, it’s not serious.” His eyes weren’t even open. 

“And I’m your highly concerned husband, yes it is!” He countered, grabbing his radio again. “We need a casevac, now, over,” he tried, hoping his plea could be heard over the howling of the wind and rumble of the ground. He waited a moment longer for that burst of static, he didn’t realise how hard he was clenching his jaw until he got it. 

“Message received, coords? Over,” came the voice on the other end, Xander could barely hear it and he wasn’t sure if that was because of the explosion of bullets going off or the blood rushing to his ears. 

He checked his coordinates before reciting them back to the radio, his eyes set on John the whole time as he repeated them until the radio gave the all clear. 

As soon as that voice confirmed it through the speaker he dropped the radio, yanking the gauze from his utility vest pocket. “Alright, this is gonna be kinda makeshift,” he bit down on his tongue, trying to jog his memory on his first aid courses. He knew those procedures like the back of his hand but with his heart thrumming against his rib cage and his breathing hard to catch he couldn’t think straight. 

No, not when it was John. 

“Okay. Let’s just,” he had to speak himself through it as he unzipped John’s utility vest to get to the wound, trying desperately to remember. “John, it’s gonna be fine. Help is on its way now.” 

“I don’t need help,” he tried to assure Xander, trying to push himself to his feet with his good hand. 

“Stop!” Xander slapped his hand off the floor. “You are getting blood everywhere.”

“No big deal,” he argued. 

Xander took to ignoring him instead. He didn’t need his husband bickering with him while he nursed his wounds. Not helpful. “Get this off,” he tried to order him, tugging at his uniform top. “I need to see the wound.”

“Wow, Xander,” John let out one thirsty chuckle. “Now?” His laugh was almost drunken.

“I swear if this bullet doesn’t kill you I will,” he threatened as he meant John forward to tug his jumper over his head. The shoulders were where it got difficult. 

The blood was coated to the wound and taking the pressure off of it made it hush out so he had to hurry but the tugging on his skin was making him squirm. 

“Ah shit,” he wasn’t a field medic. He was just a concerned husband. “John can you hold my wrist?” He asked, needing to ensure he was staying conscious. 

Drowsily, John raised a hand to drop it down on Xander’s arm just as he tugged his sweater off. 

Obviously, he had seen his husband shirtless countless times, but he was never not phased by the countless scars and claw marks etched and burrowed deep into his skin and angrily across his body. He wouldn’t bat an eye at anyone else’s but god, John was just not as invincible as either of them thought. Xander could never face that.

“Oh lucky you,” Xander gave his hand a squeeze and a frantic, anxious smile. “Exit wound. We won’t have to dig anything out.” Hey. Silver linings. “And even luckier - a med will be here soon so you won’t have to deal with my shitty stitches.” He couldn’t even fathom how he would do that with his hands shaking this badly. He hated stitching up wounds anyways. 

“Your hands are cold,” John chuckled as Xander applied the bandages.

“Oh shit, yeah?” They felt kind of clammy, but not cold. He gulped, trying to keep stomach acid from crawling up his throat. No. His hands weren’t cold actually, they felt hot and sweaty, his whole body was hot with a sick worry. “Sorry.”

“No, it feels good,” he gave a lethargic nod. 

“Oh- you have a fever!” He should’ve known, but his mind was just racing too fast to cling to any certain thought. 

But things seemed to slow down as John grabbed his wrist a little firmer and leant his head up against Xander’s other arm as if to take in the coolness of his skin. 

“Okay. Help will be here soon John,” he repeated, hopefully an affirmation. “Almost here.” 

John’s skin was just as sweaty as his honestly, but he got the bandage on tight. 

“You’re getting blood all over you,” Xander finally managed to relax just a bit, emphasis on ‘a bit.’ Only enough time manage a laugh. 

He licked his thumb, wiping the smudge of blood off John’s forehead from where he had grabbed at his head. He cleaned up the stain, placing a small kiss on his forehead and letting his head rest on top of John’s for just a second. Maybe he was too worried. At least John seemed to enjoy the coolness of his skin.

“Don’t be gross,” John opened his eyes only if to give him a mocking glower. “A little bit of blood never hurt anyone.” 

“Actually, you’d be surprised.” He peered out of their makeshift hiding spot, letting out a gasp of relief as a duo of proper field meds with proper equipment and proper thought processes came into sight. 

Oh thank god.

“John, look,” he pointed.

John hissed through his teeth as he sat himself further up, still gripping Xander’s wrist and moving down to cold his hand.   
The combination of both of their hot, clammy skin pressing up against each other wasn’t pleasant in the slightest in Xander’s opinion, but no way was he letting go. “Coming to take me away from you huh?” He managed a shit eating grin, gripping at his shoulder again with his other hand. 

“Stop playing hero for one second. I’m literally begging,” Xander would’ve elbowed him if he wasn’t so scared of accidentally killing him somehow. 

“General!” The first field med skidded to a stop. “Oh perfect,” the younger girl let out a sigh. “You’ve plugged the wound perfectly.”

“Oh!” Had he? 

“Oh look,” the second field med, a lanky looking man who towered over Xander even as he stood up. “You’ve handled it perfectly. We’ll take it from here, officer.”

Xander nodded. Even in his panic he couldn’t even mistreat John it seemed. Maybe he shouldn’t have freaked out so much. “Yeah I kinda did, huh?” 

“Thank god you knew what you were doing,” the woman hoisted John up a lot more professionally and knowing than Xander had. “If you hadn’t been here- well, we’ll just say you’ve saved his life getting him out of the way. He looks like he was losing blood fast,” she commented with a quick glance at the small puddle of blood around where John had been sitting.

John snorted as he was laid on the stretcher, his utility vest and sweater collected by the male officer. He blinked open his eyes to look up at Xander, finally letting go of his hand after one last squeeze just to rest it by his side. “Wow, Xander. And you’re telling me I play hero too often.”


End file.
